


Unfinished Business

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-28 22:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14459016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kankri Vantas is dragged to The Grub Club to see a band perform. He encounters Meenah Peixes and ends up getting drunk...stuff happens.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunah_Peixvey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunah_Peixvey/gifts).



Kankri was dragged along by Latula into the Grub Club. There was a band that was going to play tonight, and Latula’s boyfriend couldn’t come with, so Kankri was forced to go. He much rather be at home though, possibly reading while eating leftover pasta from the other night. Clubs were too loud and full of drunks, certainly not his type of scene.

He also had always felt out of place at clubs, he looked much more reserved than anyone else. What, with this red long sleeve vest, and white dress shirt. Along with ironed jeans and clean vans, he looked radically different from the rest. Everyone else had piercings, dyed hair, exposing clothing, maybe even vulgar clothing. He didn’t fit in. His usual self would not want to fit in, mainly because there would be a balanced ratio between reserved and alternative.

Latula on the other hand fit right in, with those rubber bracelets decorating her arms, tattoo’s poking up just slightly above her shirt. Pierced ears, red, teals, and blacks complimenting each other through her clothing, with fishnet stockings, and very very dirty sneakers. Although, Kankri had grown used to the style on her. After all, he had known her for a few years now, being they were both in their mid 20s and met when they were 19. So, he was used to the style. Again, just on her.

It didn’t help that he felt like he couldn’t breath anyways, there were just so many people. Was this band so supposedly good? He didn’t understand, if a band were to perform it’d be much better to just do it at an outside place, it wouldn’t be as crowded. Certainly not stuffy either. He wouldn’t feel like he was being pushed by crowds to the back wall.

Sighing, the vantas walked towards the Grub Club’s bar and took a seat, “Rum with coke please. ” He slid a ten across the counter, “When I finish it give me two more.” He needed something that was going to make him forget this night. What person would want to remember a night full of screaming men that are still living in their mother's basement? Certainly not this one.

He took a sip of the alcohol, the burn didn’t bother him too much. Sure, he didn’t drink 24/7, but during the feeling jams with Latula, they’d get drunk and he eventually grew a tolerance for the burn. It was more of a tingle, he had a tolerance for pain in general. So even then it didn’t bother him. What probably did bother him though was the sound of a woman yelling.

“Hello everybody!”

Kankri spun around in his chair, drinking more. On the stage four people lurked, a bass player, a drummer, a keyboardist, and obviously the singer. They looked like some ragtag band of misfits, as if they were those goth kids just a bit more mature. He downed the rest of the drink.

The singers voice boomed, “Rather than doing the usual and singing from our album, we’ll be doing some requests of other songs from the audience. Anyone gotta request?” Everyone raised their hand. Including a very bored Kankri.

The singer looked around the room, before pointing at Kankri. “You there, guy with the red vest and necktie.” Everyone put their eyes on the Vantas.

He put the empty glass on the counter as he lowered his arm, then cupped his hands around his mouth. “The Ballad of Sara Berry.” He had been listening to it recently after skimming through his recommended on youtube, just a bit obsessed.

“So we got a theatre nerd,” she laughed, “Alright, I hope you losers remember this song.”

* * *

The night proceeded to continue on, the band playing more. Kankri ended up not drinking much, just the two other drinks. By the time the band was done, it was midnight. The club was even more crowded, it was a weekend after all, and it seemed there was also another band going on. He sighed, and got out his phone. Oh. Latula had left, he might as well leave too then.

So he stood up and was walking towards the exit, until he felt a hand on his shoulder and was spun around. He looked up to see the singer from the previous band before him, she was a lot taller than he had thought. Plus a lot more attractive than his eyes had shown earlier.

“Is there something you need, Miss Musician?” He addressed her.

She gave a smile and chuckled, “Just to thank ya, that song got the crowd pretty hyped up. Even if not many knew of it. Happened to be somewhat nostalgic for me. By the way, the names Peixes, Meenah Peixes.” She held a hand out with a wink, “But Miss Musician works well too.”

He just stared up at her blankly, before a small smile appeared and he shook her hand. “Right. Sure, you’re welcome. I’m Kankri Vantas. I should be thanking you for doing a nice cover,” He thought for a moment, he really wasn’t even that tired and it wasn’t like he had anything to do tomorrow. “I was going to leave but suddenly I feel a need from some alcohol, care to join, Miss Musician?”

She put her hands on her hips a wicked grin on her face, “I’m taking this as a challenge to who can get knocked up first.”

“U-u-u-uh you know what knocked up means ri-” Meenah had already begun back to the counter. He assumes she meant drunk, and he followed after. When he got there she turned around and held out a mug brimming with what he assumed to be beer. Tonight would be interesting. So he took the mug and looked at the foamy liquid, time to splurge a little.

The Vantas began chugging, beer escaping the cup and his mouth, dripping either onto the floor or his shirt. He finished and handed it back to Meenah, wiping his mouth. “Another one.”

* * *

They sat on a bench now talking, and it could be the drunkenness speaking but...Meenah was the most beautiful woman Kankri had ever laid eyes on, the way her eyes glowed while speaking about music entrapped him. How she blew her hair out her face in a frustrated manner so cute, and her jokes hilarious. He leaned over, and cupped his hands around her cheeks bringing her into a deep kiss.

She seemed surprised at first, but leaned into it for a moment, before pulling away. “Let’s...take this somewhere else.” Red tinted her dark cheeks, and she took his hand in hers, before walking for about thirty minutes until they got to a hotel.

They paid for a room for the night, he goes and sits on the bed. Proceeding to make out with Meenah before a drunk consciousness overtakes him completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kankri p a n i c s

The Vantas sits up the next morning in a sweat, he hurriedly looks around, automatically being greeted but a headache. To which he lays his head back down. Why was he in a hotel room? And why does his head hurt? Wait...he lifts up the covers before putting them back down quickly...why was he naked?

Wait. Did he do _that?_ The Vantas blinks. What happened last night? He remembers going to the Grub Club with Latula, drinking rum, running into the singer Meenah and drinking some beer…Then talking with Meenah on a bench...then going to a hotel...then...god damn it.

He put his hands over his face. He was going to wait for marriage! Only wanting to save himself for that he truly loves. Of course he could try and find and marry this girl...but he only met her last night. Plus that would make them having to elope and he doesn’t want to do that. He might as well be like his stupid Father now, sleeping with women his whole life, until finally meeting a gal when his kids are teens and...god no.

Kankri was not going to be like that guy. He couldn’t be. After all this is just one little thing, he kills people for a living, is literally apart of his own mafia. No way would Kankri ever be like him. This is just a small thing...kinda. Ugh. Why did he have to go with Latula to that club again? He would not be in this situation if he had just stayed home writing on his blog.

He took a deep breath sighing, it’s okay. It’ll be okay. He sat back up, and glanced over at the other side of the bed. Oh. She was gone...well, that’s for the best. He slipped out of bed, then ran to the restroom and took a shower.

After he got out, he put his clothes on, it was all sweaty...with alcohol stains all over them. Ew. He’d have to do laundry now. Making sure he had his phone and keys, he saw a leather jacket on the seat. Meenah must have left this...well, he’ll just take it and if he sees her again give it back...she’ll probably want it...yeah.

He ended up leaving the room and checking out. Where was he? The Hotel itself wasn’t exactly top notch, and it was obvious he wasn’t in the most spoiled part of the city. He sighed, and Kankri got out his phone, it wasn’t dead luckily. So he tried calling Latula, but automatically sent to voicemail. Either she was sleeping, or she got called in for work. He tried a few others until finally deciding to pull out the big guns.

_His Father._

It wasn’t that Kankri _hated_ his Father, just that he greatly _disliked_ him. After all, it’s hard to appreciate a parent who kills for a living and left you to look after your younger brother for most of your life. But, he knew his Father wouldn’t be doing anything on a saturday morning, probably just now getting up. And so, the Vantas called his Father.

“Y’ello?” Moaned a cranky voice.

Rolling his eyes, Kankri spoke, “Hi. I need to be picked up, my friends are all busy and I know that you won’t be.”

There was a sound of almost disagreement, then a sullen silence, proceeded with a groan and rattling of keys. “Fine. Where ya at?”

“I think you mean, where are you. But to answer, I think I’m…” He paused, then proceeded to look around a bit. “29th street?”

“Geez. Big help. Be there in a jiff.” The call then abruptly ended.

He looked down at the phone screen for a moment now, just showing the contact information for, _Father_. Just like every other call and conversation. Not even a, how was your day, or are you doing okay? Kankri didn’t have the best relationship with his Father, and although he hates to admit it, he wish he did. He never had a good parental figure in his life, and when Miss Paint stepped into his Father’s life, it was his last year of high school. Plus they had only been going steady, so her motherly presence was there, but not as much as he would’ve wanted.

He sighed slipping the phone back into his pocket. That doesn’t really matter now anyways, he was 24 and barely communicated with family. Whatever he had yearned for is dead now, and he’s moved on. At least, that’s what he wants to believe.

The Vantas waited for a while, he was used to waiting so he didn’t mind. Although he was a bit hungry, and he did want to get home as soon as possible. Make some toast, put on the T.V., write a bit, and just try and take his mind off of last nights nonsense. Maybe it’ll put his mind at ease for a bit, help him figure out how to fix the situation. After all, you can’t just magically get your virginity back, and it’s not like-No. Remember, mind at ease. Deep breath, deep breath.

Well, deep breaths would be nice if the engine of a car pulling up wasn’t old and killed both the environment and him. He huffed and shot a glare at the car, before opening the passenger seat and getting in. He secured himself in, before getting an apple thrown at him. He yet again, huffed and glanced at the driver. “Thanks, Spencer.” Kankri took a bite of the apple.

“Ya know, it’s disrespectful to call ya Father his name,” he pulled off the curb and back onto the road. “Even more disrespectful to assume I’m free whenever convenient for you.”

He groaned, “As if you’re one to talk about respect and conveniency.” The Vantas leaned against the window, “Could you take me home please?”

“Sure whatever, light me a cig would ya?” Kankri opened the glove compartment, “Also tell me why ya were hangin’ round a hotel in one of the bad parts of town?”

He lit a cigarette, and held it over to his Father, who let go of the wheel with a hand and put it in his mouth. Kankri proceeded to roll down his window, “It’s my business.” He took another bite of the apple, “Also you should quit smoking, I don’t think your wife wants you to die only a year after getting married.”

Spencer laughed as he blew out smoke, sarcasm dripped from his mouth. “Sure. Not my business when ya wake me up at nine, make me waste gas, give ya my food, not my business at all.” He shook his head, “Just tell me, and leave my habits along with your Step-Mother out of this.”

“I was merely stating a fact, you will die someday because of those things and I don’t think she’ll be too happy about it.” He hung an arm outside the car, letting the cold air tickle his sleeves, “Also you make it out as if I mean to be intrusive? You still have a kid living with you, me asking this one time shouldn’t affect you that much, Spencer. If you really want to know, I’ll have you know I’m not even quite sure. My good friend Latula took me to a club, I had a few drinks, met someone, drank and hung out with her. I’m fairly certain we both went to the hotel, and I lost my virginity. After all, I awoke to finding myself naked, my clothes scattered, and her jacket. Are you happy now, Spencer? Is your thirst for knowing that your son has most likely ruined his plans for staying celibate until marriage quenched? If it isn’t then I’m oh so sorry, hmph!” He proceeded to take angry bites out of the apple until just throwing it out the window, and crossing his arms.

Silence filled the car for what seemed like eternity, an empty void even inhaling all breathing. True tranquility being held in this car full of history, there never was something that should exist in it. After all, for the longest time Kankri has known, this has always been his Father's car and it’s never been quiet. Constantly full of anger and wrath, there were memories of arguments stained on these seats, Kankri was sure even blood here and there from his Father’s job.

He’ll never forgive his Father for having kids. What kind of person has kids when you are apart of the equivalent to the mafia? Sickening. Kankri rather have a Father who was a preacher, who fought for good, was a pacifist. Not a person who killed for a living, cursing his kids to a life full of secrecy. He remembers when he used to look up to his Father as one of the best people ever, he remembered being excited when he was baptised at church and finally wearing a suit like his Fathers, like he had always dreamed. Now when Kankri wears a black suit he feels a disgusting and sickening feeling in his gut.

He’s heard his Father has gotten better from his brother, because of Miss Paint, but Kankri refuses to believe it. No one can change a murderer, not even if you become the love of their life.

The car pulled into a parking space in front of the apartment. “Here,” His Father’s voice broke the perfect silence.

“Right,” Kankri unbuckled and got out, “Thanks, Spencer.” He closed the door.

The Vantas then walked up the stairs to his apartment, unlocked it then went in. He automatically sat down on the couch, threw her jacket on the coffee table, and turned on the T.V. Not even a consoling word, no surprise there of course. The Vantas sadly smiled as tears rolled down his cheek, and his breathing proceeded to grow heavy. He threw his face into his hands and laid back onto the couch.

_Stupid._

* * *

Kankri awoke a few hours later, the T.V. still on. He felt hungry and thirsty, so sitting up with a sigh the Vantas strode to the kitchen. He got out leftover pasta, then put it in the microwave and waited. While doing so he got his phone out of his pocket, letting a yawn escape. He had a few miss calls from Miss Paint, along with a text message from Latula saying she was sorry, then just notifications about his blog. Nothing much.

He ended up texting Miss Paint, apologizing for not answering her calls, and that he had taken a nap and now was making food, he’ll try and talk later. He was sure she’d buy it, he didn’t have an intention of calling later, he’s sure his Father told her what happened, he wasn’t ready to talk about it more. At least not with his family, especially over phone, he rather talk about it with Latula, on the roof of a museum, drinking alcohol with ice cream.

When the pasta was done, he took it out and ate in the living room. Watching some documentary about the Sahara Desert. After he did the dishes, and changed into pajamas, then stalked off to his room. He put The Ballad of Sara Berry on loop, then plopped onto his bed, and curled up on the blankets. What happened to him?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao,,i'll add a photo later when it's not 2 am when im doen writing and posting them rueijfd

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, I used to not be the biggest fan of it but because of a certain friend I have a whole AU :)))))  
> Anyways enjoy, please leave kudos or what not. I plan to try and actually keep up with this one.  
> Also I'm going to try in every upload to have at least one picture.


End file.
